Life or something like it
by pretty parachute
Summary: Sirius's death brought up some changes in Harry.He doesn't want to play everybody's Golden Boy anymore. See how people react to this new Harry.DMHP:


Harry sauntered into the kitchen of No 12, Grimmauld Place, and sat down carelessly. Ron was still looking at him like he'd grown two heads or something, but Harry did his best to ignore the tickling in his neck.

-Oh Harry, it's so nice to see you!" Hermione exclaimed and hugged him tightly. Harry averted her embrace, but smiled to her. –"You look so different…"

-"Thought I'd buy my own clothes for once," Harry answered vaguely, slipping a hand through his hair and looking down at the dark jeans he whore. They fit him perfectly, he knew. Malfoy was sitting by the kitchen table, holding a cup of tea in his hands. -"It's not that…" Hermione muttered. Harry didn't pay attention, but sat down by the table. He fetched his cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans, and lit one carefully. –"When did you start smoking!" She asked and studied the fag with a dirty look upon her face. Harry shrugged and took a deep breath of it.

-"It doesn't smell too good," Ron muttered sourly. That was the first thing he said to his best friend after a summer apart! Harry felt himself getting irritated.

-"Well, you don't have to be here, you know. You can go sniff some other place." Harry said without looking at him. Malfoy had totally forgotten the tea he held in his hands. Instead he followed the conversation with an unreadable expression on his face. Hermione had asked him to be there when Harry came because she hoped it would calm his anger and turn it into wonder. She hadn't succeeded. Harry hadn't looked at him twice.

-"Harry, you don't have to be so rude." Hermione stated.

-" I'm not rude, I'm practically stating the obvious." A pressing silence caught the room, but Harry didn't seem to notice with the cigarette between his lips. –"So, are you going to give me some news or am I sitting here for nothing?" Ron didn't look at him, but stared out in the air with an offended mine. Again Hermione took the word.

-"Oh you don't want to know, it's so horrible. It's been so many murders and dissappearings. Kingsley lost his only daughter a month ago, and Piercy's been-"

-"What do you think you're doing, young man!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as she walked into the room, followed by Remus. –"Throw that thing away this instant!" Harry raised his eyebrows and studied them degradingly with cold, indifferent eyes.

-"Excuse me, but why should I do that?" Harry asked politely.

-"I don't want such activities in this house. You can decide to kill yourself with them when you're off age, but you're not even 16!" Harry snorted loudly.

-"With all due respect, Mrs. Weasley, I am not your son, you are not my guardian and I believe we're in my house."

-"Harry!" Lupin said reprimanding, but somehow his words had no effect. Harry didn't know why, but Remus always seemed so weak with his thin form and shabby clothes. Molly studied him closely.

-"It's alright, Remus," she muttered and then found the door.

Remus studied the four teens sitting by the table. They all looked so different. Draco's attitude was high and mighty, while Hermione's screamed know-it-all. Ron just looked a bit geeky. Harry, one the other hand, had changed. He used to look so sensitive with open eyes and hair that looked more like a mop then anything else, now he just looked degrading. His eyes were judgemental and indifferent, not one single emotion could be found. Just pure boredom. He no longer used glasses, and his hair was tamed into a systematic mess. It seemed like he had bought some new clothes too, as his jeans actually fit. Remus sighted and sat down with the teens.

-"How are you, Harry?" He asked, well aware that his voice sounded tired. He was tired. Searching for news about Voldemort all day and mourning over Sirius all night was tiring.

-"I'm fine," Harry answered quietly. He couldn't pick up any feelings from Harry. Sometimes he could sense feelings and moods, but Harry didn't express any.

-"You're not fine, just look at yourself," Hermione said, surveying Harry closely. Harry snorted loudly and a smirk tucked the corners of his mouth.

-"Hermione darling, I look hot! I know you like Ron here, but surely you're not blind." Hermione blushed crimson, and Ron's eyes immediately shot to her. Harry felt pleased. He had managed to turn the attention away from himself. Raising up to find a room, he suddenly met Malfoy's eyes. A shock shot through his body at the expression in the silver eyes in front of him. His friends might be stupid, but Malfoy wasn't. Ignoring the fact that he suddenly felt nervous, he started to walk to his room, well aware that someone was following him.

-"What the heck are you thinking acting like such a fucking jerk!" Draco exclaimed after he had closed the door. Harry was already at his bed, opening his bag and suitcase.

-"What do you mean, Malfoy?" He asked lazily, though he knew perfectly well what he meant. What he didn't understand however, was why Draco cared. The Malfoy he was familiar with wouldn't ask why he was acting like a jerk. Like Harry had done something wrong.

-"Look, I've been here for a while now, and they've been worrying about you all the vacation. Do you know how much they really care! And you treat them like dirt in return." He was standing beside the other bed in the room, obviously his bed, too fired up to sit down. Harry felt slightly annoyed at the blondes sudden meddling. He wasn't supposed to care about Harry's friends. He clenched his jaw and turned towards Draco.

-"There are factors here that you don't know at all, so I suggest you keep that pretty, blonde head of yours out of others business, more specific; MY business." Then he continued packing out his things, casually throwing his clothes in a neat pile on the floor. Draco narrowed his eyes, but kept quiet. For some seconds, that is.

-"I know about Sirius Black and all those things that happened last year," he said and studied Harry closely. Harry didn't let any emotions through the mask he'd developed over the years. Instead he clapped his hands together and smiled sweetly.

-"Well, aren't you lucky?" The words dripped with sarcasm.

-"You shouldn't let those locked up feelings be an excuse for treating people like shit. Especially not you friends!" He sat down at the bed and looked expectantly up at Harry.

-"Great, now you're just being annoying," Harry muttered and pulled off his black t-shirt, revealing a tattoo over his groin. Some sort of writing in symbols Draco couldn't understand. The writing stretched from hipbone to hipbone, creating a nice bow.

-"You probably hurt Molly earlier. She's been so troubled since Piercy disappeared, and you just had to make it worse, didn't you!" Harry felt rage slowly sliding in his veins. Who knew Malfoy could be this annoying! Almost as annoying as Mrs. Weasley herself. –"And Ron and Mione have been worrying sick about you! Is this how you want to thank them for sticking up with you for five fucking years? Risking their necks for your life?" Something just snapped inside Harry. It was something about looking at Draco's wide open and serious eyes, something about listening to his drawling voice sticking up for Harry's friends, something about the way he thought he saw everything so clearly when in reality he didn't see nothing at all. He couldn't see the raging storm that ravaged inside Harry, he couldn't see the fucking intense pain that seemed to tear apart his body, his world, his whole fucking heart, above all; he couldn't hear the words of the prophesy echoing in his head reminding him of what he had to be, but couldn't, wasn't.

-"I'm risking my fucking arse for you, for you, Malfoy, and this damn unworthy world. I don't expect anything of you. I don't expect you to see the reasons behind my actions as you know absolutely nothing about my life at all. Except for small fragments that people have told you, but that's really not enough to judge me on. What makes you think that you can see this clearly? What makes you think that you know best what I should do, when you don't even know my story, you don't know what happened last year, you don't know me!" He knew a little part of his mask slipped away, it always did when he spoke the truth. Draco stared into emerald pools of desperation. There was no other word for it. –"Can you just let this be? Let me deal with stuff my way? Let me do things MY way? And don't even tell me I'm self-centred; I fucking know that!"

Draco snorted. –"There is something called friendship, if you remember, and Ron and Mione have always been there for you. Is this how you want to repay them!" Harry was boiling inside. He knew all that, of course he did. He didn't want to hurt them, he didn't want them to die, and the best way to keep them safe was to stay away from them. He wasn't about to tell this to Malfoy, nor the fact that he didn't need them. He felt uncomfortable around them. They were not like him. They still had a future. They still could make it without being drawn into this horrible war. They had happy memories, happy families, they had each other and Harry didn't want to take this from them. They were happy. If he had to hurt them once for them to survive, he risked it.

-"People grow apart, they change; not every friendship can last." He turned to hide the pained expression that forced its way through. For the first time ever, Draco said exactly what he felt to Harry.

-"I really, really thought you were different," he muttered and walked out of the door.

Harry's insides were screaming. He was furious. He was numb. He was so sad that tears sneaked their way into his eyes. He hadn't cried in so long. Maybe he shouldn't have gone here; maybe he should've stayed in Private Drive. Everything had been so easy when he only had himself to relate to. The time had passed so fast. In a few days he would be 16 and they would go back to school and everyone would expect everything to be normal. Yet everything was so not normal. He was alone this time, with only memories and defiance to keep him going.

People reacted so different to loss; Harry had tried everything to forget what had happened. Suddenly everything had exploded and he hadn't bared the thought of continue the act of the pious, caring and brave Harry – the Boy Who Lived – Potter. He really had no idea who he was. He'd acted all his life, ever since he was a little boy and discovered what kind of children teachers preferred and how to avoid his uncle's beatings. It hadn't been hard to figure out what kind of a person Harry Potter was. Everyone had clear expectations to him.

After Sirius death, however, Harry had felt so lost. Somehow along the way his acting, he had forgotten who he was. He had gotten some friends throughout the vacation, not the sensible kind, but entertaining enough. Together they had been drinking almost everyday. Harry had tried everything he'd stumbled over; drugs, alcohol, girl sex, smoking, boy sex etc. It had worked. For a while. He had forgotten everything, hadn't cared about anything. But now he was back and everything hit him like a thousand bricks.

With frustration in his veins Harry laid down on the soft bed.

-"Well, fuck them,"he muttered, and slowly drifted away.


End file.
